Stadium worthy of fight -- not Denny's

WHEN A Seattle landmarks board voted to save the old, pointy-roofed Denny's building in Ballard from the wrecking ball, I figured at least one city activist would blow a gasket.

After all, the Denny's site is run-down, a nostalgic eyesore. It carries little historical heft and has debatable architectural import compared with the place Guy Gallipeau hopes to save -- Memorial Stadium at Seattle Center.

But Gallipeau, a 79-year-old gadfly, wasn't hopping mad like so many who think saving the ex-Denny's restaurant was dumb.

He was, well, giddy.

"We have it made," he gushed to a friend after the Seattle Landmarks Preservation Board voted Feb. 20. "They accepted Denny's as a landmark, even though that building didn't qualify as a historical site!"

By such logic, he believes, the board should rush to save Memorial Stadium, which has history written all over it. Let's hope that logic plays out for the sake of posterity and common sense.

Memorial Stadium was dedicated in 1947, so you can check off that box.

A building or site also must meet at least one of six criteria. I'll mention a couple.

A site must be associated in an important way with a historic event that has a significant effect on the community, city or nation.

Surely, a stadium in honor of lives lost in World War II qualifies. Check.

Or a site should be an easily identifiable feature of its neighborhood and lend to the "distinctive quality or identity" of the community. Memorial Stadium is a unique playfield for lower Queen Anne and offers one of the most breathtaking views of the cityscape. Few high school sports venues can boast that. Again, check.

Gallipeau says he ran into trouble seeking landmark status before as a result of another criterion -- that a site has "visible characteristics of an architectural style, or period, or a method of construction."

The stadium, as he put it to me Monday, is "basically big slabs of concrete over benches."

Spoken like a true nonarchitecture major. A veteran of World War II and the Korean War, he could use someone with chops and the honeyed words of builders. But really, folks, the fate of Memorial Stadium shouldn't have to come down to architectural jibber-jabber.

The mayor ought to know. The City Council ought to know. By many a measure, the stadium, where high school athletes and weekend warriors play, should be seriously considered for landmark status.

"It's history!" Gallipeau howled, restating the obvious that people in high places either don't see -- or don't care to see.

As Gallipeau knows, we live in an age of painfully short memories. Who wants a reminder of a decades-old war when they are just looking for a place to park, eat fondue and catch "The Nutcracker"?

Planners for Seattle Center are salivating over the possibility of turning the stadium footprint into a giant parking venue or amphitheater.

If the Ballard Denny's site was essentially spared by a sole criterion of the landmarks board -- being an "easily identifiable visual feature of its neighborhood" -- Memorial Stadium offers many reasons for Seattle to rally.

The people shaping the future of Seattle Center are arrogant. They seemingly care little that the stadium -- like Seattle Center -- sits on land bequeathed to the city and dedicated in historical documents for "use of the public forever."

They seem dismissive that the site is owned by the school district. The land was deeded by the city to the district in 1946 for $1 with a stipulation -- the site be used for athletics. Adding to Memorial Stadium's value is its stone jewel -- a wall etched with more than 700 names of Seattle-area students who died in World War II.

Only when the school district decides it no longer wants the stadium can the grounds revert to city ownership. There are deep fears the district and city are cutting deals behind closed doors to make this happen sooner than later.

The property, along with the parking lot, is valued at $46.8 million. The parking lot is a cash cow for Seattle Public Schools, generating about $700,000 a year.